


in the moment you could be honest, you could wake up

by Plexus (toitsu)



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls II
Genre: Friends to Lovers to Enemies, M/M, Some canon compliance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toitsu/pseuds/Plexus
Summary: velstadt is a quiet, simple man, with simple beliefs, and wants – he believes in his king, he is proud of what he does, and he does it well; his wants are simple, too, if a bit elusive - and sees no reason to question the king.raime, though.
Relationships: Raime/Velstadt the Royal Aegis
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	in the moment you could be honest, you could wake up

**Author's Note:**

> does this make sense? no. do i care? also no. are the characters in character? who knows. is velstadt being weird? certainly.  
> ds timelines and plots are not my forte, i just want some armored boys to kiss at the kiln of the first flame.  
> title from 'My enemy' by Chvrches.

velstadt is a quiet, simple man, with simple beliefs, and wants – he believes in his king, he is proud of what he does, and he does it well; his wants are simple, too, if a bit elusive - and sees no reason to question the king.

raime, though.

_so_. he says, throwing his helmet aside and facing velstadt, his face just a bit incredulous, just slightly skewed and - _giants_ , he says.

velstadt shrugs.

i.

that is not to say he is not loyal. raime will do as he is bid, and lead the army but ah, he will grumble and ask _why_ , he will say _they are across the sea, they are_ _not_ _doing_ _any_ _thing_ as velstadt chases him around the ring, trying in vain to exhaust him into silence, _no one else is corroborating the story_ -

_that’s an order from our king_ , velstadt will answer, hoping to quell the questions, knowing it won’t work – for him, that is reason enough, he trusts in king’s command – raime, though. raime throws away his sword and tackles him.

later, raime will be sorry, will slink into his room with a drink or two, and they will stay up and talk unimportant things.

(later, if raime falls asleep and velstadt is content to just look at him, well - )

now, velstadt throws away his weapon as well and they descend into graceless brawling.

i.

_that will be quite a shiner_ , he will say later, hands folded over the table, head low and half asleep, _sorry about that._

_i punched you in the mouth_ , velstadt will answer, unrepentant, and raime will laugh softly, cracked lip beading with blood. _for all the good it did._

dear raime, so quick to anger, unable to shut up.

(velstadt will never know, will never see him quiet, lying in wait under the warm ash.)

i.

vendrick will smile at them, when he sees them next, black eye and a split lip between them, a small one, _fatherly_ one, and raime will duck his head a bit, rueful, because the woman won’t be there and so he will be calmer, more receptive to listen to the orders.

(raime _is_ loyal, and proud to follow vendrick, even, but something about the woman and the story just rubs him the wrong way - _who is she to care anyway, coming all this way -_

_technically, we are not from here either,_ velstadt points out, _and look at us_ \- because, because – its not that raime is _wrong_ , per se, to doubt the veracity of information from a person so wholly unknown and unconnected to the kingdom – but the king trusted her, and that is good enough for him.

raime throws his hands up, exasperated, _look at us now,_ he says)

they will both march, of course – velstadt goes where the king goes, and with the king goes the army – velstadt is a simple man, with simple needs and wants, and he is rather glad the task of shaping the soldiers up is left to raime.

( _of course you are, you lazy butt,_ raime will complain)

i.

going to war is not a simple thing. there are meetings upon meetings, logistics to sort out, drills to perform, raising numbers of men to fill the ranks – velstadt’s role is rather passive one. raime, though. when velstadt isn’t busy shadowing the king, he listens to raime yelling at his men, lends a hand when his friend seems overwhelmed, and when raime takes out his sword to teach someone a lesson, to show off some move or the other – well. velstadt prefers cruder things, his hammer a weapon favored above all, but he can appreciate a fine show.

i.

and still, raime is restless – even after sharp reprimands from the king - his objections just quieter, confined to moments he corners velstadt alone – truth be told, velstadt is getting tired of hearing them, he will say as much, will watch raime flinch and withdraw with a pang of guilt but – he can’t listen to the tirade. for him the matter is done, the orders have been given – the king has not changed his mind.

raime turns around and walks away.

i.

they do not seek each other, then, meeting in fleeting snatches, going about business. raime will not come to his rooms with a drink and velstadt will not come to the ring.

(it’s not that he _doesn’t_ want to, but – raime will look through him, will speak somewhere to his side when he has to, and, well. message received.)

i.

and then, sooner than he realised – they are off, they march to war – across the sea they go.

i.

the flagship is grand, but less than the castle, less than the city – space is limited, only the king and queen-to-be afforded any privacy whatsoever, and some cruel soul (the king, it was the _king_ ) bunked raime and velstadt together. they bump into each other in the small space, neither yielding, turning away, not speaking – raime slept with his back to velstadt and -

velstadt watches him stalk the deck later, military precise steps, and joins him when he stops at the prow. raime glances at him, a fleeting thing, fixes his gaze onwards, gloves creaking where he grips the rail.

velstadt watches him, openly, notes the tension, watches his throat work – and doesn’t know what to say, and he spent all night looking, thinking -

elbow to the ribs catches him by surprise, he stumbles – and then raime, dear raime, voice gruff and hand out to steady him - _just say you are sorry, you asshole._

i.

he says he is sorry. raime’s smile is a small, soft thing.

i.

raime’s laughter is louder, harsher and no less treasured when they retreat for the night and velstadt fishes out a bottle out of his pack, his head thrown back. _i forgot about the cups,_ velstadt admits. raime huffs and shrugs,

_well, nothing for it now,_ raime says and reaches over.

i.

velstadt doesn’t kiss him, not then, mellowed with wine and made soft in the dark – he _wants to, he always wants -_

they are only beginning to find their way back, quiet at first, then with bad jokes, then with general complaints, swaying with the ship, shedding armor piece by piece, until they are both lying down and – raime falls asleep, arm hanging of the bed, bottleneck held loose between his finger.

velstadt doesn’t kiss him then either, but dares to hold his hand, just a bit.

i.

when they land, though. when they land. raime’s face darkens, and he hides behind his helmet but later, oh later, after the first assault – _they didn’t expect this,_ he hisses, _she was wrong, she lied, they weren’t planning anything -_

i.

it’s futile to protest, now – first blood was drawn, the order hasn’t changed and the giants do not stand around surprised for long.

i.

_this is wrong,_ raime will whisper, tired and bruised, and velstadt won’t know how to comfort him when they make camp, because his king _can’t_ be wrong but his friend is distressed -

i.

it happens fast, and it happens slow – they trudge on and on, felling these strange creatures – velstadt doesn’t think, doesn’t dwell on _whys,_ only acts as he is commanded. raime though. raime is fast and strong and leads the charge but.

when they finally finally stop, when they retreat, when they bring _captives_ back – raime asks to be assigned to a different ship, and he doesn’t see him the entire voyage back.

i.

there are celebrations, of course, and funeral rites for the fallen – but mostly celebrations, and a wedding announcement.

velstadt is involved only peripherally – shadow of a king – he fought, and fought well but the hero is vendrick, the hero is raime. he doesn’t mind, he does not seek glory; he observes, he stands guard, offers opinions only on security arrangements. toasts with the rest if he is not on duty, always, always toasts for his king and his friend -

raime, though. he goes through motions with little feeling, face blank and back straight. velstadt doesn’t know how to approach him.

i.

he hears the ring of steel long before he sees raime, alone and angry very late in the night – calls out his name when raime stops briefly. he whirls around, face shadowed – _don’t,_ he growls, _don’t say anything, either get a sword or get away from me -_

i.

raime comes at him fast and strong, more force than velstadt expects – he knows raime is angry, raime has been vocal enough – but he didn’t expect him to be brutal, reckless like this – leaving himself so open in an attempt to exhaust the rage.

he plays along, for a while, but raime doesn’t get better, doesn’t tire – he is the better swordman between them but like this, directionless, wild, velstadt can knock his weapon away, can back him into a corner with blade at his neck – _enough, raime, please_ -

i.

he almost expects raime to raise his hands, not in surrender but in loose fists, raises his own hand to catch at least one but then - raime grabs his shoulders, jerks him forward, forehead to forehead and then - crashes their mouths together.

i.

a moment, and he doesn’t remember dropping the sword, doesn’t hear it clatter to the ground, only his heartbeat, loud loud _loud_ – raime is – raime is pressing close, grabbing at his face, raime is – raime is kissing him and -

he pulls away because – because he is a simple man, with a simple want, and he never ever expected -

_i know you look at me,_ raime hisses, so very softly, dangerously.

i.

he doesn’t remember stumbling their way to a room with a bed, doesn’t care to know _whose_ bed it is, raime’s body hard and insistent weight pressed against his; too many armor pieces and not enough space between and his hands won’t stop, can’t stop roaming, catching on sharp angles – _stop, stop,_ raime barks out a laugh -

he reluctantly pulls away, stares stupidly as raime discards piece by piece, the sound of it so loud in the dark – as skin emerges – he’s seen raime in various states of undress before, but – he starts on himself, hurries to catch up, afraid if he lets the moment stretch he will wake up – but raime, raime is _there_ , impatient, eyes dark and his teeth sharp.

i.

raime was not supposed to know, raime was never supposed to notice – the twist and turn of velstadt’s thoughts as he looked at him; even in his fantasies he couldn’t pretend – all his dreams staring some fascimile that only resembled raime around the eyes and the jaw and in height, maybe -

he did not imagine that raime would kiss him like he was hungry for it, would lick into his mouth and bite his tongue and _touch_ him, hands dry and rough, that he would barely give him time to react to the onslaught - but the scratch of stubble against his chin is _real,_ raime’s body warm and solid against his and velstadt – velstadt is not dreaming.

i.

he is (mostly) content to let raime take the lead in this not-dream, and shares some of the urgency – to touch and kiss and devour all he can before they crash back to reality – but not like this, with raime pushing down on him, raime sitting astride him – raime intent on working himself on velstadt’s cock with not a moment to spare, like he needs it desperately, like he wants it to _hurt_.

_no,_ he says and grips raime’s hips, repeats himself louder when raime wants to ignore him, rises up to kiss him when raime’s nails dig in, when he looks like he wants to fight – the struggle is brief, uncomfortable, raime straining in his hold, his teeth bared - but he deflates soon, sinking into sheets with a sigh, with _have it your way,_ with _what are you waiting for, then -_

velstadt craddles his face and kisses him again, slow and thorough, like he always, _always_ wanted to.

i.

it’s not even dawn, he thinks when he wakes again, uncomfortable, feeling someone’s fingers tangled in his hair. it takes a moment for the realisation to hit, eternity to turn – raime’s eyes are half-lidded, his mouth inviting – body loose and half-curled around him but not close enough.

eternity to work his dry throat, to wet his lips, to whisper – _raime? -_ a question, a plea for things he can’t name – eternity to inch his own hand over raime’s. raime, who doesn’t move, raime who only watches – dearest raime, who sighs and answers _you are an idiot_ quietly, fond.

it’s not even dawn yet, he thinks as he hesitantly settles his hand on raime’s hip, as he closes the gap between their bodies. raime smiles at him.

i.

the day passes in a blur. he stood guard, he knows, because that is what he _does_ but he cannot recall anything of significance, anything at all, in his state of content daze, with odd flutters of his heart whenever he recalled raime in the dark -

the day passes and he is feeling a little lost now, sitting in his rooms, helmet in his hands but the rest of the armor still on; raime was not around, this he knows, because he would _not_ miss that. his own bed looks cold, uninviting but he doesn’t dare presume anything – he hasn’t really asked, they haven’t talked it out, when he woke raime was already gone and -

he should not be greedy, he should not push, he already got more than he ever hoped for -

i.

except sleep is not a friend as he tosses and turns, thinking of raime and his dark dark eyes, of the way he gripped a sword and later, his back -

he sits up, tosses the covers aside, moves to stand.

the door opens and raime steps inside.

for a breathless moment, velstadt just stares at him.

_did you miss me,_ raime asks.

i.

_was i supposed to,_ velstadt says as he makes his way to raime, raime who closed the door but does not come further in. velstadt is unsettled, but his hands don’t shake, his knees do not give out as he takes a step, takes two, as he crowds raime.

raime, though. raime is looking at him with those dark eyes, with face calm, with a smirk – _liar,_ he says, hand raising to settle on velstadt’s chest.

raime smells like metal, like sweat, like he spent his day chasing people in the ring. yet he doesn’t seem exhausted, and doesn’t look angry.

_i think we should talk,_ velstadt says.

_not today,_ raime answers and closes whatever little distance remains.

i.

so they don’t talk.

i.

they don’t really talk about it at all, truth be told – even if their schedules allow, it’s not really a discussion that can be had in front of anyone, let alone the king and the court; at night, velstadt finds his mouth more agreeably occupied, even if he does try to find the words.

i.

still, there are times when raime is spoiling for a fight – when they hear what happened to captive giants, how vendrick gave them to his brother – _to experiment on,_ people whisper because speculating openly about what aldia does is _heavily_ frowned upon – raime, though. raime has never once in his life known how to keep his mouth shut, it seems, raime who will dare question the king, _is it not enough, what we’ve already done -_

when the king proclaims a castle will be built, for his future queen.

on those nights, if velstadt wants to be with raime, raime will be in the ring. raime will bare his teeth, will want it rough.

i.

_why are you so angry, though,_ velstadt can’t help but ask. _i know you didn’t want to go to war, and i know what lord aldia will do but – even for you, this is too much, you never cared like this before -_

raime will look at him, dark eyes assessing, face guarded – _you do not think any of this is wrong?_

velstadt will frown. _i don’t agree with some of the things, no._ he will admit. _but it’s not my place to judge. i follow my king._

at that, raime will sneer. _of course. i expected nothing else from you._

velstadt will feel a stab of annoyance-anger-guilt when raime speaks like this. he will count to ten, unclench his jaw, his fists. raime will retreat.

i.

they coexist like that, for some time - uneasy but – there are moments. laughter and touching in the night – raime’s dark dark eyes, raime’s restless hands – it’s easier if they don’t speak, if they just move – their opinions clash and words can wound but their bodies can fit together, and like that, it doesn’t _have_ to hurt.

i.

but that is until they see the _golems_ , until the castle construction starts in earnest – until the giants, defeated giants from across the sea land on their shores in great numbers.

i.

raime comes to him that night quiet, his dark eyes dead, his hands urgent – _just don’t,_ _i don’t want to hear about your king_ _, just let me –_

there will be blood in his mouth, an imprint of his teeth on velstadt’s neck (inconsequential thing that will fade); he will be heavy, and forceful, and it _will_ hurt – there will be blood on the sheets, too, and that is what velstadt will regret, even if raime wanted it that way.

velstadt will want to hold him, when they are done. raime though. raime will walk out.

i.

and then raime will openly rebel.


End file.
